


Moving On

by teenagewristband



Category: Common Law
Genre: M/M, Small Fandom Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenagewristband/pseuds/teenagewristband
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the LJ Small Fandom Fest Prompt - Wes decides maybe he’ll try the whole online dating thing after being accused of not being able to “move on” from his divorce. He ends up going out on a few dates but nothing seems right. It just so happens Travis catches him out on a date- with another man no less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

Travis feels like a cartoon character. Fortunately he has enough chill not to look like one as he stands in the front of the restaurant. His eyes are not bugged out several feet past their sockets, his jaw has not dropped low enough to rest on the tops of his shoes. There is no visible steam coming out of his ears. His feet are moving without his permission, body following right along.

“Travis, what's wrong.” He barely hears his date over the figurative steam coming out of his ears. 

 

Wes leans in closer to hear the lawyer joke, Robert, the entertainment lawyer, is telling. Wes has heard more than his share of those, but there's something about the way Robert is telling it that makes him not mind. Surprisingly, it's also one he's never heard before. Something in the way Robert tells it makes Wes think that maybe it's a Robert original. It's actually funny. At the punchline, the laugh that bubbles out of him is more than the polite laughter he's found himself doing on his last three dates. It's from his belly. Genuine.

Reaching across the table, Wes squeezes his date's arm to cement that when something familiar hits his senses. His date's eyes, which had been sparkling at him, shift just a bit above his head. Uh, oh and of course, he thinks simultaneously.

“Hey, Wes,” his partner, Travis, grins at him as he moves around the table until he's standing right next to it. Nearly right at Wes' elbow. Wes has no choice but to stand up so they are on equal footing. He extends his hand. 

“Travis.” Quirking an eyebrow, the other man extends his own hand, but his gaze is primarily for Robert. It leaves Wes with no choice.

“Robert this is my partner Travis, Travis Robert.” No point in saying 'date'. That should be self-evident. 

“Partner.” 

“Yes, Partner.” There's a tone there that Wes hasn't heard before, it would be amusing except a moment of uncertainty skitters across his date's face. 

“LAPD,” Wes smiles at Robert, who grins back. “Oh yeah. Good.” His sheepish smile makes Wes' stomach flutter. His partner stares at his date like he's a perp.

“Where's your date?” Travis blinks back at him like he's speaking a foreign language.

“What?” 

“Your date, you're not here alone are you?” 

And he isn't, if the guilty look he flashes toward the Maitre D' station at the gorgeous girl with the long satiny black hair is any indication. For her part, the woman looks equally confused and hurt, but that doesn't move Travis from his table.

“Would you like to join us.” God curse Robert for his politeness Wes thinks. That's the last thing he wants to happen. The polite request does seem to shift his partner out of what ever mood he's in.

“No, thank you.” Without another word he leaves the table. Wes watches him walk back to his date at the front of the restaurant, but instead of letting the Maitre D' seat them, they leave. Like someone lit Travis' ass on fire. 

“Your partner seems a little intense.”

“Or something,” Wes responds as he settles back into his seat. Travis' issues are not his issues.

**************

Wes doesn't exactly dread going into work on Monday. He has hope that in the two days since Friday his partner has been so preoccupied with the girl he was with or whatever girl he met while jogging or at Starbuck's on either of those days, he would forget that he ran into Wes on a date. He clings to that hope right until Travis flops into his chair, waggles his eyebrows and asks,

“So did you put out?” That's not exactly what he was expecting. That's not what Travis had asked after his dates with women. For those, he'd been mostly respectful. So, not prepared, no time to school his features, to keep his cheeks from turning pink. 

There hadn't been any making out. Just a very nice, and he can feel his face still flushing, a very nice goodnight kiss in the parking lot of the place they'd had coffee and dessert to extend the evening. 

“I did your profile and I'm pretty sure heteroflexible was not included.”

Wes isn't sure if this conversation was a thing that had to happen. There have been dates with women. Trying to take in what Travis, Alex and Dr. Ryan had said to him, he thinks that he's given moving on a real try. Five dates, but all they had left him feeling was itchy and unsettled. There was nothing really wrong with any of the women except the obvious. Maybe if Alex hadn't been on his list of top matches, he might have been able to consider second dates. He isn't stupid. He has truly gotten that that part of his life was over. 

“Heteroflexible? Really Travis? You have at least three siblings that are definitely Kinsey 4s or higher. You can do better than that.”

“Leave my siblings out of it. The point is, I did your profile. I didn't leave any room in your profile for penises.” 

Without a word Wes pushes himself away from his desk. Apparently, the conversation is a thing that has to happen. 

Behind him, “Hey Wes, I'm just -” Glancing around, Travis sees that a few of his co-workers are looking at him with interest. Clamping down on the rest of what he was going to say, he scrambles up to follow on Wes' heels into the breakroom.

Wes hovers in the center of the room, hands shoved deep in his pockets, waiting for the door to close behind Travis as he strides through.

“I'm just sayin'..,” Travis continues as if they hadn't changed locations. “I'm just sayin' **penises** Wes, specifically your date.” 

“I figured you of all people would be open minded about this.”

“I'm not, not open minded. But you were married to Alex, would still be married if you could truly have your way. I know that. It would be one thing if this is why you and Alex broke up, but it isn't so...”

“You didn't look at the site's top picks for me?”

“Nah, man I figured you could take it from there. And that you'd probably change the password anyway.”

“I didn't change the password. There was a list of my ten most compatible, I went on five dates.”

“Okay.”

“Alex was number six on their list. I couldn't. I really tried, but I couldn't leap over to number seven. I mean, I'm really trying Travis, but she was on the list. So I'm not wrong, wasn't wrong about us. You did the profile and independently the site put her on my list.”

“I'm sorry Wes. I didn't do it to hurt you. This is kind of drastic though.”

Wes fiddles with a coffee filter. If any of their colleagues look in at least it will look like they're getting coffee while discussing a case and not having this uncomfortable conversation.

“When I was fourteen I was a Welcome Ambassador for my school.”

“Of course you were.” 

“A kid transferred in the middle of the school year, a freshman like me. It was my turn. Showed him around, made sure he knew where his classes were. Middle of the year is a hard time to transfer. So we hung out, studied together. We were in some of the same honors classes. He was one of the few kids I knew who was also really serious about school, focused. He wanted to be a pilot. We usually studied together in the library after school, but one day we ended up in my house, my room. I think maybe the library was closed for a teacher's meeting or something. I don't actually remember.”

Wes puts the filter in the coffee maker. He's been thinking about that day a lot since he'd decided to adjust his dating profile. How curly and dark Mark's hair had been, the green of his eyes. How he'd catch himself staring in Honors English. 

“We were sitting on the floor of my room and he said 'Hey Wesley' and he just sort of leaned over and kissed me. One minute diagramming sentences, the next -”

Wes pushes the button to start the coffeemaker. “And he grinned at me after and said 'that's the way they do it in Europe.' They were stationed in Italy before they came back to the States.” 

Behind him Travis shifts his weight, but doesn't move any closer. His chuckle is soft, impressed.

“That's not bad game for a fourteen year old.”

Wes has been holding tension in his shoulders all morning. It abates a bit. 

“We didn't do much more than that, but we did that a lot. Ditched studying at the library for good for one of our houses instead. Turns out his dad was just stationed here long enough to complete some training. He moved away at the end of the summer. It hurt Travis, but I didn't know what that feeling was.”

“And you do now?” 

The most honest thing Wes can do is shrug. His date with Robert showed him he wouldn't mind exploring Europe a little bit more. There's nothing more to fiddle with on the coffeemaker so he squares his shoulders and does what he needs to do if he really is going to move on. He turns around so that he can look his partner in the eye. Reassure himself that Travis is the man he thinks he is.

“It was nice. Good to talk to someone about the law without, you know. He's a good guy Travis. I'm going to see him again.”

 

“Oh, okay good,” Travis says. “We need to see Jonelle.” And then he walks out of the breakroom leaving Wes to stare after him. He'd expected more, something now that he's firmly declared himself at the very least curious. The lack of more after Travis opened up this conversation to begin with is either gratifying because Travis showed the right kind of maturity in not making a big deal once he understood this is a real thing for Wes, or aggravated because it is a big deal and Travis just walked out on him.

 

By unspoken agreement, it doesn't come up in their sessions. Dr. Ryan and the group seem happy enough that he's signed up for the dating service. Neither he nor Travis elaborate on who exactly got that ball rolling. For the most part, Wes is okay with keeping it on the 'down low' for everyone else.

**************

“So I've been thinking.”

“I can't see that ending well.”

“You need a wingman.”

“Wingman? You're already signed me up with a dating service. You've done enough.”  
“Yeah, but now you're on the D train so...different approach.”

“I'm not on any train.”

“You're going out with Robert tonight? You two haven't...”

“Yeah. And that's none of your business.”

“So no. How many date's is this?”

It's the sixth, but Wes doesn't say that out loud. Unfortunately, they are on a stakeout so it's not like he can get out of the car. Focusing his attention on the DTLA loft, he hopes someone, anyone will emerge and give him an out of wherever Travis is going with this. 

“You keep this up you're gonna be married to this dude by the end of the year.”

That strikes Wes, not exactly dumb, but as Travis' assertion hits, the thought of another marriage in his future doesn't make his stomach roil. The now distinct possibility that it could be a man doesn't do anything to increase his pulse rate. Huh. Moving on indeed.

“That's exactly what I thought. You can't lockdown with one guy like that Wes. Not now. Not so early in the game.”

“I'm not playing a game.”

“Do you even know what kind of guy you like? I mean any guy compared to a fourteen year old is gonna seem pretty great. That's why you need me.”

“I don't need you.” This is the first time since the conversation in the breakroom that the man Wes is dating has come up. Again, he's not sure whether he appreciates Travis' discretion. He's not sure if maybe it's been some kind of censure instead. 

“Robert is a nice guy. We're spending some time together. I'm moving on.”

“Fine. There's our perp.” Travis scrambles out of the car. 

“Thank goodness.”

But it's not as easy as that. Wes and Robert have their sixth date. It comes and goes. He and Travis continue their version of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell.' Travis has even stopped sharing his own exploits. Wes doubts very seriously his partner has given up sleeping with women. It's suspicious.

**************

“Marcus is in town.”

Wes glances up from the report he's reviewing. There was a foot pursuit at the downtown loft which resulted in new leads, but a ton of additional paperwork as well. Travis isn't looking at any paperwork, he's making a paper airplane.  
Wes met Marcus a few years ago when his ex-house had needed some landscaping. With his own successful landscaping company in Palm Springs, Marcus' consultation had proved extremely helpful and saved Wes a considerable amount of money with the local company he'd chosen for the work. Sometimes it was nice to have a partner with a sibling for every occasion. Wes isn't sure this time is going to be one of those times. Marcus is a Kinsey 6. Pushing the case file aside, he settles back in his chair to get a full bead on Travis. 

“Why?” 

“Because I asked him to come down.”

“Travis -”

“Look we go out, have a guy's night. What's it gonna hurt.”

Objectively speaking Marcus would be a catch. Just a hair taller than Travis, smooth dark skin, great smile from what Wes remembers. Successful businessman. Travis always speaks of him with great fondness and affection. 

Wes can't believe Travis is trying to set him up with his brother. It's on the tip of his tongue to say no, but Marcus lives in Palm Springs, from what Wes recalls he **loves** Palm Springs. He doubts very seriously anything will happen tonight to make Travis' brother suddenly decide Los Angeles is where he wants to be. Maybe if Wes appeases Travis on this, it will be the end of his matchmaking. Maybe orchestrating this is what's been on his partner's mind these last couple of weeks.

**************

The club in West Hollywood is not a place he's been before. He hasn't even heard of it which is understandable since he's not much of a night owl, but he often finds himself in places as a result of work he would never venture into otherwise. It's newish. Less than five years old which is why Marcus chose it. Travis' brother apparently knows the two guys working the door and the bartender. The atmosphere is low key, very much a post work crowd with an even mix of suits and casual. In addition to the bar, there is a decent size dance floor that's fairly crowded by the time they arrive. Since his and Travis' post work time tends to run a little later than the standard, it's just crowded enough to feel alive instead of awkward.

They start at the bar, he and Travis out of habit both positioning so that they have good sight lines of the entrance, as much of a wall at their back as they can get. They order their first beers of the night and it begins. The running commentary, the shade in stereo on just about everyone that enters the club, on just about every man that looks in Wes' direction. The brothers have him flanked. He's more than a little relieved that instead of the attention being focused on him it's all focused outwards.

About a half an hour and a couple of beers into it, a good looking guy in a tank top and jeans that leave nothing to the imagination steps to Marcus. A quick answering smile, a few words then Marcus is off his stool and onto the dance floor. Staring after him, Wes realizes he needs to readjust his assessment of the evening. If Travis is trying to set him up with Marcus, he clearly hasn't let his brother know. That allows Wes to relax a little more into his skin. It really is just a guys night out, until a guy with shaggy dark hair and chocolate eyes approaches Travis. 

The polite acknowledgment and refusal Wes expects doesn't come. Instead, Travis flashes the flirtatious smile Wes is more than familiar with, slides off his stool and into the other man's personal space. Wes swivels on his stool to track where his partner's going. Marcus has already disappeared from the dance floor. 

Wes avoids it when he sees Travis with women because it seems intrusive, exploitative. He knows how those non-relationships will end. How it always ends. But this guy approached Travis in a place where people are having sex in the bathroom. He doubts Travis' dance partner is expecting anything serious. So he he has no qualms about watching Travis and the other man dance. Actually, two guys more talking to music than dancing to it. Some rhythmic,sensuous shaking of the hips as the guy who Wes decides to call 'Tony' leans in to Travis, says something close to his ear, then leans back as Travis flashes that bright flirty smile again at his 'dance' partner.

Moving on is letting go, so for a few minutes he lets go of the part of himself that finds this inappropriate, unseemly. He lets himself watch because that's what Travis obviously wants him to do, because that is what **he** wants to do. Clearly, this is not Travis' crowd, more than likely he's making a point about Wes getting out there and mingling which is ironic since he spent that last forty-five minutes pointing out the flaws of most of the men who had looked in his direction. Without Travis' running commentary in his ear, Travis is the only man he's actually been able to really look at unfettered since he got to the club. His expectation is for his partner to half-ass it , make his point then come back to his barstool. Instead 'Tony' slides his hands around Travis' waist to just above the rise of his ass. A splaying of his fingers would have him touching Travis' ass. Wes' eyes are riveted. His expectation is not that Travis will mirror the move, and up the ante by nuzzling 'Tony' as he plants his hands firmly on the man's ass. 

A heat floods through Wes. And then his partner looks at him for the first time since he slid off his barstool to get pawed by another man. It's not the flirty smile Wes gets. The best way he can describe the look is smoldering. Travis smolders at him. He gets up and walks out of the club. 

 

He's been leaning with his elbows pressed against the hood of the car for a good ten minutes. He has his own car so there is no impediment to his leaving. Travis and Marcus are more than capable of finding their own ways home. Instead of getting in the car to leave, he's spent the last ten minutes imagining what Travis and his new friend are getting up to on the dance floor. He's thought about calling or texting Robert, but he doesn't know what he would say. All he can see is Travis' hands on another man's ass. Familiar footfalls strike the pavement behind him.

“Why are you in the parking lot?” 

“I don't dance,” he responds without turning around. 

“You could.” The innuendo is unmistakable. The heat from his partner is also right up on him. The distance closed enough between them now Wes can feel Travis' breath on the back of his neck. 

“What hell are we doing here Travis?”

“Foster care we develop early. Maybe I had my own Welcome Ambassador when I was twelve.”

Of course, Wes thinks Travis would have to one up him by a couple of years. The larger implication of the revelation prickles his skin. Turning to face his partner, there's barely any space between them or protection from the intensity of Travis' expression. 

“So many women Travis, not one penis.” 

“I told you about the women because I figured you needed encouragement, plenty of fish in the sea and all that. No reason to mention men. You'd never given me any reason to mention men.”

It dawns on Wes that Marcus was Travis' wingman.

**************

Travis slides from under the arm flung over his chest. It's not like any other morning after he has ever had. There's a tightness in his chest, a hotness in his skin and a kind of jitteriness in his limbs he's never experienced before. Since the night he'd run into Wes on his date with Robert, this has been on his mind. When he and Wes first met he'd thought he was attractive in an uptight way. There might have been a fleeting thought about naked ways to loosen up someone as uptight as Wes was.

Travis might not be too good at not shitting where he eats, Jonelle is a prime example of that, but he doesn't break up families. Wes and Alex had been happily married, so that thought had just been what it was, fleeting. Seeing Wes touch another man in that restaurant where the ambiance, body language and even Travis' own reason for being there made it more than apparent why Wes was there, had stumbled Travis in a way nothing much had in awhile. There have been men in the time since he first met Wes, just like there were before he met Wes, but no one wants to gather around to hear stories of those conquests. Travis has never brought those to the table except with his siblings like Marcus. 

It's overwhelming to have it come together like this. To have the realization that everyone was right. With Wes it **was** different. The totality of everything they know about each other, what they've been through together, the work of therapy. As he'd held onto Wes' waist with one hand, clutched his hair with the other, as he pressed into the other man's body, the permission in his partner's eyes, the trust, all the gears slotted into place. There had been ego in it at first. He hadn't wanted Robert to be the first. Wes was his in a sense. He had dibs, but now he also has a profound responsibility. It's not one he's felt for any of the other people he's had sex with. 

They are both screwed up to some degree, but he can't believe they could be screwed up this badly. That this has been the thing underneath the friction between them. 

Wes wakes with a start. He's in his room, but it feels different. He isn't alone. Stretching his arm across the rumpled sheets his knuckles graze the against the flesh of the person perched on the edge of his bed. The touch prompts his partner to turn his blue eyed gaze on him. The weight and vulnerability there is sobering. The brush of his knuckles turns into a light tug as he turns his hand over and pulls gently at the bend of Travis' waist. 

There is maybe a seconds hesitation before the other man slides back across the wrinkled sheets to him. Wes is glad of forethought that made him slip the 'Do Not Disturb' on his door. Whatever's going to happen next, they'll need uninterrupted time to process it. 

Ideally that will be together, but his perception of Travis in these situations is that his flight response is strong. His arm slides across Travis waist as his sleep warm body finds its place flush against Wes'. Like a moth to a flame, Wes finds his own body surging forward to eliminate even the tiniest bit of space between them. 

His morning erection nestles against Travis' crease as he presses an open mouthed kiss to his partner's neck. They should talk. He wants to talk, but he might want this part a little bit more. To taste Travis' skin more, to be inside Travis the way the other man was inside him hours ago. In answer to the kiss Travis lifts his hand back to tangle his fingers in Wes' hair which sends a shiver and ignites echoes of Travis' hand tight and possessive in his hair as he came inside him. Wes' own shivering doesn't keep him from picking up the tremble of his partner beneath his hand. 

“You okay?”

The grip in Wes' hair tightens.

“Yeah, yeah just you know.” 

He does know. His fingers splay against the muscles of Travis' abdomen, pressing gently. The muscles flutter beneath his hand. Wes does know. 

 

**Epilogue**

It's not like any other morning after Wes has ever experienced. And he knows he will never have another morning after like this. That is more than fine with him, this beginning of a lifetime of cherishable memories. 

Travis had been right about him being married by year's end. The previous day had been exhausting. He'd wanted either City Hall or elopement, but his husband's large and varied family made it virtually impossible to get out of both an actual ceremony and a big, raucous party. He'd thought it would feel weird, maybe a little hypocritical to stand in front of so many and pledge forever given his previous failure, but as Travis had pointed out, with that thinking there was no point in doing it at all. That had struck such a cord in Wes. He didn't speak to Travis for two days afterwards. 

On the third day, Travis cornered him in the break room. They had already been split up as work partners for six months, assigned to different task forces. 

“I want everyone to know that you belong to me. You and I are a new thing. I don't care about what came before.”

“I know you don't, but -”

“There aren't any buts in this.”

Even though he knows Travis as well as he does now, sometimes Wes forgets that as much love as Travis has for the eighteen moms and those families, his childhood was one without power and security. Without choice. In that moment, Wes was humbled and reminded that he was chosen. Of all the people his husband had been with Wes is the one at the end. Until the end.

“Your brows are furrowed a little too much for a man who got as spectacularly laid as you did last night,” comes a sleepy rumble from behind him. 

“Modest much.”

“I don't need to be modest.”

“No, you don't.” The blush heats up Wes' whole face. It was good before, but last night...There's no helping the grin that breaks across his face or the desire that washes through him.

There had been a brief discussion about writing their own vows, but with so many family traditions vying for attention and honor they'd elected for a kind of get in and get out approach. 

“Thank you,” Wes says softly to the man looking at him with sleepy eyes. “Thank you for choosing me to be your family. I will never leave you. I will always have your back.”

Travis is definitely not a cartoon character. If he were there would be hearts popping out of his eyes and birds twittering around his head.

fin


End file.
